First Time
by Artemisdesari
Summary: Final part of the First's trilogy. The souls have been ripped out of Castiel, but at what price? And will Dean be able to forgive him everything, no matter his personal feelings for the angel? Dean/Cas Rated for Chapter 14
1. Chapter 1

_I didn't think I'd get this up for a couple of days, apparently I'm seriously inspired though._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Still looking, still can't find the rights. Besides, if I owned it Gabriel and Balthazar would be working out ways to torment Dean while pushing Cas to make a move, Sam would be hiding in a corner wondering how it became his life and Bobby would be contemplating killing the lot of them for the sake of a quiet life. Ergo, it's not mine and more's the pity._

First Time.

Castiel has been unconscious for three days and for three days Dean has sat in the panic room and watched him. There is little romantic about the way that the hunter is sitting and waiting for the angel to awaken, it is completely a matter of practicality. Dean _wants_ Castiel to open his eyes and be back to being the angel he was before Crowley and the souls. Deep down he knows that will _never_ be the case. Too much has happened to them all in the last few years and Dean does not know what they will meet when Castiel wakes up. For all he knows the angel could be completely mad.

It is heartbreaking to think that he might lose Castiel when he is finally beginning to understand just how he important the angel is to him.

Physically the hunter is prepared should Castiel wake completely insane, fully powered and dangerous. The cot they have placed the angel on is surrounded by a ring of unlit holy oil and Dean has a lighter in his pocket. If _that_ fails the hunter also has an angel blade at his side. Killing Castiel is the last thing that he wants to do and while he might have everything that he might need on hand to do so Dean knows that mentally it is not something that he is ready for.

"Maybe it's time to accept that he isn't going to wake up," Sam says from the door into the panic room. It is about the only good thing that Castiel did while in possession of all the souls in Purgatory, fixing Sam's mind, and so far all the signs are good. Sam still sleeps a great deal more than Dean is comfortable with but he is getting better each day and it is a weight off the older brother's mind.

"He'll wake up, Sam," Dean insists, looking over at his friend. After everything that they have all been through together he knows it would destroy him if Castiel were to remain like this for the rest of their days.

"If he doesn't," Sam says, though he does not come closer, the younger man knows that this is a touchy subject, "we can't leave him like this. We have to think about what we're going to do, how long we're going to wait."

"As long as it takes," Dean mutters, "we'll wait as long as we have to."

"The world isn't standing still out there. Bobby's getting more and more leads on potential hunts." Sam brushes his hair back off his face and Dean takes a moment to wonder at the fact that his brother seems so comfortable having it so long. "Just think about it, alright?" Sam does not give his brother a chance to reply, just leaves the room and Dean to his thoughts.

This is not an easy position that the hunter is in, caught between wanting Castiel to wake up and wanting to dedicate his time to making sure that Sam is alright. He is also exhausted, sleeping in fits and starts in an uncomfortable chair when he dares, but when Bobby relieves him so that Dean can grab a few hours of shut eye it is elusive. His concern for Castiel gnaws constantly at him and the hunter has only ever experienced this kind of gut wrenching worry once before in his life: when Sam was drinking demon blood.

Really it is a sign of just how much Castiel truly means to him that he would worry about the angel this much even after everything he has done. The hunter does not have many friends, has been hurt too often and is too much of a nomad to form normal relationships with people, but Cas has always been different. Moving past what has happened in the last few months will not be easy, Dean has been betrayed one too many times in his life and as much as he _cares_ about Cas it will take a while to trust him fully again. _Sam_ will find it harder, however, because Dean knows that his brother is still hurting about how easily Castiel shattered the wall in his mind and used him as a distraction. Dean just wishes that he could be surprised about that choice, but he knows the influences that Cas has had in his existence and there is not a one of them that is twisted enough to do everything that the angel did.

Dean includes himself in that because, and he may not like to admit it, he has worked with demons in the past too.

"Get some sleep, boy," Bobby startles him out of his thoughts. "You look like week old milk."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean gets to his feet though he is not certain whether he means his comment to be sarcastic or heartfelt and so it comes out as a strange mix of the two. He _is_ tired, however, and a few hour of rest whether he manages to sleep or not are not something that he is going to pass up in a hurry. Besides, as much as watching over Castiel is a task he has taken on willingly, or as willingly as he does anything these days, there is an agony to doing it that he wants to escape for a short period.

It takes nearly an hour for the hunter to fall asleep but when it finally comes to him he succumbs quickly and willingly, passing from the unlit darkness of Bobby's guest bedroom and into a world of grey and still. Dean knows that he is dreaming even before his brain registers the other presence in his mind fully. With everything that he has seen and experienced he is almost disappointed that his dreamscape is so plain, then he looks fully at his companion and wishes that his imagination did not have all the material it has been given over the years.

Not unusually the companion of his dream world is Castiel. What _is_ odd about it is the fact that this is not the angel as Dean's dreams so often paint him, whole and in love, relaxed and calm. This is not an imagining of the life that Dean could have with his angel, or the guilty moments of pleasure with a version of Cas that needs no guidance or reassurances. This version of Castiel stands awkwardly, almost as though he is afraid of how Dean will react to him, and his head is half tilted. Were that the entirety of it the hunter would be happy to accept this as simply his mind and leave it at that. Except that it is not all of it, the image is not of a Castiel healthy and whole. This image is of an angel who's form is cracked. Even his clothes have the fissures in them, as though they are more rigid than they should be, and through those cracks Dean can clearly see the blinding shine of white that he has come to associate with an angel's grace.

"Dean," Castiel's voice is no less broken, his blue eyes wide and pleading. "What's happening to me?" He reaches for the hunter. "Tell me I did not succeed."

It is in this moment that Dean realises that this is not _his_ dream, not his mind, that some how he has managed to cross from his mind into the angel's. It should freak him out, and when he wakes up it probably will, but his concern right now is Cas.

"You didn't," Dean assures him, "Sam found a way to get the souls out." The angel sags slightly in apparent relief. "You haven't woken up in three days, Cas." He can see the flicker of surprise in his friend's eyes, can see that Castiel was not expecting Dean's concern or soft words. They stare at each other in a way that they have not in far too long and were Dean not certain that he is in Castiel's mind he would think that the angel is trying to look at his soul again.

He is woken by the sound of screaming.

_Artemis_


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm sorry, this has taken me forever to get out. It was hard to write, if I'm honest, but it was also kept to one side because I had presents to make for two very good friends (you both know who you are and I luv you long time!). Perversely it was the cards that took longer to make because I do that too. So I had to make the rest of you suffer. You have my apologies._

The sounds of screams fill his ears and his mind, an unending shriek of anguish and agony so deep and profound that it is barely human. Well honed instincts have Dean rolling out of his bed and reaching for a weapon before the sound has truly registered with his sleep dulled mind. When it does he does not even pause to pull on his boots before racing down two flights of stairs and wrenching the door to the panic room open.

Bobby is watching warily as Sam crouches in front of the angel. Castiel has shifted, moved to huddle against a wall as his screams slowly become pained groans and whimpers. The younger Winchester is talking quietly, obviously trying to soothe the clearly distressed angel though he remains well out of arm's reach. For all the good that will do given that Cas is still fast enough to get past Bobby at his most wary.

Dean steps forward. Everything in him is clamouring at him to comfort Castiel and find a way to fix whatever it is that is causing the normally stoic angel to react in this fashion. He cannot stand to see his friend in this kind of pain. Bobby stops him, his hand a vice like grip on the hunter's arm.

"You sure you want to do this?" He asks. "He _was_ going to _eat_ your _soul_."

"I'll be fine," Dean assures the older man. He is not sure why he is so certain that this agonised creature is the same cracked and chipped angel that he met in his dream, but he is and he knows that he is safe. For the moment anyway.

Whether Bobby has Dean's faith in Cas or not, the older hunter releases the younger and Dean moves across the room at a half run. He halts next to Sam, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder as he, too, crouches.

"It's okay, Sammy, I've got this," his words are soft and he shifts closer to Castiel as Sam gets to his feet. He can feel his brother at his back, though, hovering protectively and he appreciates the sentiment for all that it will do him if Cas decides to go for him.

The hunter reaches for Castiel, his green eyes vibrant with his concern and his hand trembling with his worry. When Dean's hand first closes on the angel's shoulder Cas seems to still and calm for a long moment, leaning into the touch as the hunter brings his other hand up to press against Castiel's chest. The angel's name is a barely audible whisper, a broken sound that carries all of Dean's heartbreak and betrayal and fear.

"_Dean_," Castiel's eyes shoot open, brilliant blue that glistens with pain and desperation. "Dean," there is a long moment when they simply stare at each other, eyes locked and barely breathing. The hunter reacts on pure instinct, however, when Castiel's clawed hand darts towards him, stumbling back as Sam's hands grasp his shoulders and pull him away.

"_No_!" Cas's shriek is one of deep agony. "Please, Dean, _please_! Help me!"

For the first time Dean sees blind panic and total anguish mixed on his friend's face. It rips through him so rapidly, is so shattering, that he feels his legs give under him and it is only Sam's grip that keeps him from collapsing completely. This is not Castiel, this desperate, screaming, creature is merely a hollow representation of him. This is simply a memory in a body because the Castiel that Dean knows would not give in to that pain. The Castiel that Dean knows would have followed when Sam pulled the older Winchester away.

The screams die down as Dean finally gets enough of a grip on his emotions to stand on his own. In place of them, however, is a ramble of half formed sentences and mumbled words. He cannot watch any longer, cannot stand the agony of seeing his friend reduced to this. He turns and leaves, the pitying expressions on Sam and Bobby's faces searing themselves into his mind.

He makes his way into the study, grabbing the first bottle and glass that comes to hand on his way through. He knocks the first couple of drinks back quickly, eager for the numbing effect of alcohol. After a moment, however, his thoughts return to the panic room, return again to that foolish hope that he has been clinging so tightly to.

He sighs and buries his head in his hands, once again trying to think of a solution. It is not an easy thing when they do not know exactly what kind of effect having the souls torn out of him has had on the angel. Dean turns his mind back to his dream once more, turns to the image of a Castiel cracked and bleeding grace everywhere. Even more than the damaged being in the panic room, that vision of his friend terrifies him. To see Castiel shaking and whimpering in a corner is one thing, something that needs to be fixed, but to see the angel in his dreams as though he is slowly falling apart is something that Dean does not think he will ever be able to find a solution to.

Which is when it occurs to him that the two things are really the same thing, one is simply a spiritual representation of Castiel's condition. He tosses the glass against the wall in disgust, listening to the tinkling crystal shatter and taking little satisfaction in it. In this kind of situation the first person that he would turn to is Cas. The angel cannot help him this time.

"Dean?" Sam's voice drifts from the doorway, a soft note of concern that does not need to be voiced. "This isn't going to help," the younger brother points out. "He's not going to get better on his own."

"If he ever does," Dean snorts. "What if there's nothing we can do for him? What then? Do we keep him down there like this forever? Or do we kill him?"

"We'll find something," Sam leans against the side of the door frame, his own large form taking up the majority of the empty space. "We always do. Just think about it, try and get some more sleep. We'll call you if anything else happens."

Sam's words bring Dean's exhaustion to the fore of his mind. It has been days since he has slept properly, days since he has done anything but worry. He does not want to sleep, needs to think about everything, but he also knows that Sam is right. Tired as he is the hunter is no use to Castiel and he needs rest. He settles back in his chair, intending to close his eyes for a few moments so that he can think and he is assaulted by a series of images.

The scar on his arm, the vibrant flash of the light of a soul, the sense of safety and security that he has often felt in the presence of his friend. Finally he sees Castiel reaching for him, stretching his hand forward as though to bury it in the hunter's chest and Dean knows, finally, what he has to do to help Cas.

_Artemis_


	3. Chapter 3

_First of all, I love writing cliffhangers and I haven't been able to do it in too long. Second of all, I've been playing with this idea for a very long time so why not stick it in my fix-it trilogy. Thirdly, I'm only being evil and not updating regularly because my boyfriend is spending huge amounts of time here and I have birthday presents to finish too. I'm sorry, normal service should be resumed soon. Sort of._

Dean knows what he has to do, some instinct in him is screaming at him to go and do it now before he loses everything that he holds dear. He has not been able to. For three days he has listened to Castiel's screams and whimpers, has watched the angel in his dreams crack and shatter into ever more pieces and he has still been frozen in place. For the first time in his life Dean Winchester is so afraid he finds himself unable to act.

Dean has been frightened before, it comes with the task of being a hunter when all is said and done, but usually his reaction to fear is to become angry or frustrated. Usually he tries to find something else to focus on so that when the time comes for him to act he can do it as quickly as is necessary. This task is something else, however, doing what he has to in order to save Cas could kill him. Even more concerning is the thought that it could give the angel everything that he had aimed for when still juiced up on the souls of Purgatory. There is the risk that Dean could completely lose himself to Castiel, could have his soul torn from him even though he is trying to help. Dean could lose himself to Cas, could be driven as mad as his friend apparently is. There is a risk that this action could kill him and utterly destroy him in the process.

None of these possibilities are why the hunter is hesitating, there is no sense of self-preservation so powerful in the hunter that he would not risk everything to save the one that he cares about. It is simply the fear that once Cas has touched him and taken what he needs Dean's heart will be ripped into pieces by the angel. It is the fear that even after he sacrifices of himself to help his friend too many angry words have been spoken for Castiel to ever consider returning to him or exploring that emotion that ties them together. Dean could let Castiel touch his soul and still be rejected by the angel. It is that fear of rejection that makes the hunter hesitate in even voicing the thought.

Besides, Sam and Bobby would only try to stop him.

After waiting three days and seeing only the continual decline of his angel, however, Dean knows that it is now long past time for him to act. Neither his brother nor the older hunter want to leave him alone with the damaged creature that Castiel has become, they both saw the way Cas reacted to Dean and the hunter knows that they both worry the angel will try to take what he needs by force. He knows that they will not understand that Dean _needs_ to do this, _has_ to do this, there is too much unsaid and undone for him to let Cas waste away and vanish. There is too much between them for him to allow Castiel to die.

Cas needs to touch Dean's soul to heal and Dean is going to allow it, no matter what his family might think. It will not be an easy thing to do, and Dean knows that it is going to hurt, but he cannot watch his friend suffer any longer. He _will_ not watch it any more. Castiel is too important to him.

"I need a moment," Dean tells Sam when he enters the panic room. Castiel is still huddled against one wall, centred in a ring of holy oil that can be lit at a moment's notice.

"Dean?" Cas looks up, sunken and dulled eyes staring at him with the kind of hope that breaks Dean's heart utterly.

"I'll be fine, Sammy," Dean promises, stepping around the protective form of his brother so that he can continue to get closer to his angel. "Just give us a few minutes, alright?" His brother looks dubious, as the hunter knew that he would, but nods after a moment and walks to the door, leaving it open behind him and Dean knows that Sam will not go far.

"Dean," Castiel reaches for him, stretching his hand out in an imploring gesture that is no less shattering than the desperation in his voice. The hunter cannot deny that he has concerns about letting the angel touch his soul, cannot deny that the profound nature of such a thing is a little overwhelming, but he is certain that it is the right thing to do. He only hopes that the agony will ultimately prove to be worth it. He hopes that he can fix all that is damaged between them.

"Hey, Cas," he does not smile when he greets the angel, cannot smile when Castiel seems so small and damaged still huddled in his filthy trench coat.

"_You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench__coat who's in love with you.__"_

Unbidden Balthazar's words from another reality and another time come crashing down on the hunter, reminding Dean of why he is doing this. They remind him that everyone else saw how Castiel felt about him before the hunter ever stood a chance of it and that his own feelings were almost as plain. He hauls his friend upright, helping him walk to the cot so that they can both sit and both be comfortable. Dean will not deny that he is worried, afraid, about where this choice will take him, but seeing his angel now he knows that he has no choice. The hunter has always been one for self-sacrifice, even for the most selfish of reasons, and this is going to be no exception. He will put his own life at risk in the hope of saving Castiel because that is simply who he is.

"I need…" Cas whispers and Dean shushes him with a soft mutter and a sad half smile. He knows what Castiel needs, does not want to force the angel to ask. This is Dean's to give as he chooses and there is no need for Cas to ask for something that the hunter already intends to give.

"I know," he replies, reaching and touching Castiel's cheek, tempted to place a chaste kiss to his lips for a moment before thinking better of it even though this may be his last opportunity. Instead he reaches for one of the angel's hands, lifting it and placing the palm against his chest over his heart. "I know. Whatever you need, Cas."

There is a moment where Dean thinks that Castiel is simply going to plunge his hand into the hunter's chest and take until he cannot take anymore. It is a moment where dulled blue eyes stare at the tanned hand that covers sallow skin with a desperate hunger that is almost terrifying. Then the barely tame creature is pushed to one side and the cracked angel that Dean talks to in his dreams is there for only a handful of instants.

"It will hurt, it could kill you."

"I'm aware of that," he presses the hand tighter against his chest. "I trust you." The words are hard to say, hard to hear coming from his own lips. He has no choice but to trust Cas in this and he has to pray to a God he does not believe in nor want to need that this faith will not be misplaced once again.

As the white blind agony of Castiel's hand forcing it's way through flesh, bone, and that other worldly barrier between tangible and soul takes him over Dean can only surrender himself to the hands of a broken angel. He can only hope that whatever connection his soul shares with Castiel's grace will be enough to help restore the angel to a measure of what he once was.

_Artemis_


	4. Chapter 4

_Getting into Castiel's head, after so long out of it, is difficult. Fun, but difficult. Also, I'm loving my cliffhangers still, and I know you all probably hate me for it._

Everything is bright edges and brittle angles. Everything hurts and slices and tears. His senses waver in and out, circling between hyper-sensitive, grace fuelled, and overwhelmed humanity that simply cannot process this profound level of otherworldly agony. Through it all there has been only one constant, one relief, one need.

_Dean_.

Whenever the hunter is in the room, whenever Dean's subconscious reaches for him, for the briefest of moments Castiel feels the cracks and chips in his grace beginning to mend. For only a moment he feels whole and sane. This tiny caress is not enough, however, to help him for long, it is but a single stitch in a much larger wound, a continual flow of agony and loss that Castiel cannot stop and cannot hold back. It is worse still, because he does not know if the damage has been caused by Crowley tearing the souls out of him or if the trapped souls of Purgatory had torn through his grace in their rage.

Either way this is not the slow fall of an angel cut off from Heaven, this is not a fall at all. This is the gradual unravelling of everything that he is and nothing that Castiel has tried has seemed to work. Only Dean's presence, only the brilliance of Dean's soul, seems to halt it for a short while.

The angel still remembers that the souls from Purgatory inspired in him. He still remembers the desperate need to keep Dean close even though the hunter had pulled away. He still remembers the complete obsession that the unholy choir within him had claimed was a deep and eternal love.

He knows better now. He knows that love is not that all consuming obsession that had taken him, nor is it the desperate need of the madness that takes over him and forces this final, rational, part of his conscious mind away into a dark corner. Love is a quiet and fulfilling emotion when it is returned and the sharp drag of thousands of blades when it is not. Love is what drove him to sacrifice all he ever had and all he ever was for Dean.

He is certain that Dean would do the same for him, should the angel ever dare to ask it, and that is why he never will. It is why the most lucid part of him screams into the madness that he must never ask, no matter how desperate. It is a tiny, aware, part of his mind that begs only for Dean's health and happiness and fights it's way to the surface to warn the hunter when it seems that Dean is determined to sacrifice himself even without being asked.

This is not like the time Bobby gave of himself to replenish Castiel's dangerously depleted power so that the angel could pull the Winchester brothers back to the future. That in itself was dangerous enough. This will not simply be recharging failing grace, this will be using energy from Dean's soul to knit back together the pieces of him that have begun to fly apart. This could kill them both, drive them both mad, it could rip Dean's soul from his body or link them together for eternity.

Alternatively it could work, it would leave both of them completely exhausted, but it could leave Castiel revitalised, healed, and Dean weakened but safe. Exhausted, safe, but above all _angry_ with Castiel for everything that the angel has done. No matter how much the angel believes Dean loves him, no matter the evidence that he has, he does not think that the hunter will be forgiving his actions in a hurry. Either way Castiel suspects that he has already lost Dean in all the ways that matter.

Which is why he does not want to take Dean up on his offer. It is why he fights to stamp down on the desperate creature that the shattering of his grace is turning him into. It is why he warns the hunter and it is why he is completely taken aback by Dean's confession of trust. It is why he is as gentle as he can be when he pushes slowly through the barriers between the physical and the spiritual though he knows that his hunter must be in more pain than he can express. To Dean's credit he does not make a sound, does not scream and does not move. The hunter simply closes his eyes and grits his teeth, clinging to the edge of the cot with one hand and holding so tightly to the angel's arm with the other that were Castiel human there would be vicious bruises.

He tries to be gentle, tries to be careful and not to take too much too quickly. He does not want to prolong Dean's pain, does not want to hurt him any more than is necessary and even that is too much. It is difficult, however, when he can feel himself finally becoming whole once more. It is difficult when he can feel the shuddering agony of Dean's soul even as some part of the hunter's subconscious tries to comfort the desperate screams of his grace.

It takes time, so much more time than Castiel would like, and all too soon he knows that Sam has noticed the silence. All too soon he feels someone trying to wrench Dean's body away from him and that is more dangerous than anything that the angel is doing now. If they are torn apart now, still linked at grace and soul, it could kill Dean or allow his soul to escape into nothingness. It could take all the beauty in Dean and leave it drifting through the universe.

"No!" It is not Castiel who cries out. It is Dean. "Sam, no. Let me do this. I have to do this."

The hunter's voice seems to come from inside the angel and from so far away that it is almost inaudible. It is a strange sensation and one that he cannot understand. Sam's voice is even further from the angel's awareness, so far that he can barely understand what the younger man is saying. He does not have to, though, he has done enough, taken enough, that he believes that if he stops now he can fix the rest of the damage on his own. Slowly he withdraws his hand, slowly he unthreads his grace from Dean's soul and finds himself sinking back into unconsciousness.

With the pain that lances through him as Dean is dragged from the room the angel welcomes the return of the darkness.

_Artemis_


	5. Chapter 5

_Splitting my time between beads, boyfriend, house and dog at the moment. Cap it off with work (and I've got a new job! Woot) and you get a person who might be stretching herself a little thin. I'm trying to come up with a routine, but it's not working so well at the moment. I'll get there soon enough._

Dean regains consciousness to the sound of Sam and Bobby arguing. The hunter hurts, and not just in the physical sense. Even though he has never been truly aware of his soul before he can now feel it in every way and the pain is not something he thinks he will ever be able to describe. It is almost like jagged ice shards tearing and burning, slicing, through everything that he is and leaving movement completely impossible and wholly necessary.

In spite of that, however, his first thought is not of his own pain or the half raised voices in the kitchen. His first thought is of his angel. His first thought is to wonder if his poorly conceived plan worked.

"Cas?" His voice comes out as a cracked whisper, a shattered plea that he is too exhausted to hide.

"Dean," Sam is at his side, large hands fluttering ineffectively as though he _knows_ Dean is in pain but has no idea what to do about it. "How are you feeling?"

"Doesn't matter," Dean mumbles, grunting as he tries to sit up. He is on Bobby's tatty old couch, a less than ideal place to wake up and an even worse place to spend any length of time unconscious. "Where's Cas?"

"He's still in the panic room, unconscious." Sam's face has _that_ expression, the one he gets when he is so consumed with guilt that he does not know how to express it. "I shouldn't have left you alone with him, I'm sorry."

"Why?" Dean asks, his brother's words bother the hunter and create a knot in his stomach that he notices even over the pain currently sweeping through him. "How long have I been out?"

"A couple of hours," Sam's face screws up in a frown. "You don't remember what happened?"

"I remember you trying to pull me away from Cas, which was real smart, by the way, what with him elbow deep in my _soul_ and all." Dean shrugs. "I must have passed out. Has Cas woken up at all?"

"He's been out as long as you," Sam mutters as Bobby appears with whiskey and painkillers. Dean accepts them gratefully, knocking pills and drink back in one go.

"What were you _thinking_?" Bobby demands of him. "Damn angel could have killed you!"

"I was trying to help him," Dean growls, trying to get to his feet and failing miserably.

"By letting him suck out your _soul_?" Bobby's face carries an expression of incredulity that Dean has rarely seen there. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't that the exact same thing he was trying to do to you when he was hopped up on monster souls?"

"It wasn't the same thing, Bobby," the younger man responds, "and he wouldn't have hurt me."

"How can you still trust him after everything he's done?" Sam asks. It is a completely valid question, Dean can accept that, and it is not something that he can really explain to his brother. All he knows is that his tie to Castiel goes as deep as his tie to Sam, if not deeper, and he has forgiven Sam so much that he probably should not have. It is not a reasoning that he can put into words, though, and he struggles with the idea for a long moment.

"I need to see him," he replies, instead, willing himself to get to his feet and stay upright. The hunter knows that Bobby was exhausted after Castiel used his soul for a quick fix, but Dean knows that the amount Cas took then was nothing to the amount that the angel has taken this time. Every part of him is screaming that he needs to be near Cas, everything in him is telling him that if wants this to have worked he needs to be with the angel so that Castiel will wake up.

It worries him, this certainty that the only way to help his angel is to be in a room with him. He has no idea where this notion came from, where the information that is slowly working it's way to the surface has been pulled from, but he cannot deny the conviction in his heart and soul that this is the right thing to do and the only way to help the angel.

"You think that's wise?" Bobby asks, though Sam helps Dean to his feet. Dean knows his brother; Sam is not helping because he thinks this is a good idea, Sam is helping because he would rather not pick up the pieces if Dean face plants down the stairs to the basement. Either way, the older Winchester is not complaining, he certainly does not feel steady enough on his feet to make his way down there on his own. This is not something that he would admit, however.

When he reaches the panic room he can see that Sam and Bobby have increased what protection they can against angels, as though they have tried to trap Castiel in the room so that he cannot pose a threat to them. It is then that the hunter finally realises what his brother and surrogate father think happened. It is then that he realises that they think that Cas attacked him to take what he needed. While he cannot entirely blame them for their lack of trust in the angel it still saddens him a little. Castiel is important to him, more important than Sam and Bobby seem to realise, and he would like them to have some measure of Dean's belief in Cas.

It is easy to understand why that is not the case.

Seeing Castiel flat on his back on the cot is heart breaking all over again. It is clear that Sam or Bobby has tried to make him as comfortable as possible, but seeing his friend once again unconscious with his hands on the bed at his side does little to reassure Dean that he has done the right thing by his angel,

"Cas?" He mutters the angel's name as he shrugs off Sam's helping hands and stumbles forward. He rubs a hand across his chest, remembering the bizarre sensation of Castiel's hand sinking in between his ribs and through the boundary between his physical body and his soul. "You've got to wake up, dude, I need to know you're going to be alright."

"Dean?"

_Artemis_


	6. Chapter 6

_I got inspired at work, sat in a dark little room with a pen and paper sneaking five minutes of writing time every moment I could. _

Castiel _feels_ Dean's approach before the hunter speaks. Even with the carvings on Dean's ribs the angel has always been able to sense the hunter when in close proximity to him. An angel's grace does not wrap around the soul of a human without there being some form of lingering after effect. It is why Castiel's bond with Dean is so much stronger than his bond with Sam. Of course, there are other factors to it, but those he will have to _tell_ Dean at a later date. Those he will have to try to explain and he knows how hard that is going to be.

"Dean?" He whispers the man's name, daring to hope that they are alone and disappointed to see Sam hovering behind his brother. After everything that they have all been through together it is ungracious and ungrateful. There is still a dark, dangerous, part of his mind that still screams –_Mine, all mine, only mine_- when he thinks of Dean. That part of him is terrifying.

"I'm here, Cas," Dean staggers forward, steps uncertain and eyes tight with pain. Castiel _has_ hurt him, whether intentionally or not, and self-loathing races through the angel. It is a new emotion, though one that he knows Dean experiences on an almost daily basis, and he finds that he hates it. "How're you feeling?"

"I'll be fine," Castiel tries to sit up and is stopped by the barely there pressure of Dean's hand on his chest as the hunter sits beside him. "You shouldn't have helped me," he mumbles as he turns to face the nearest wall so that Dean will not see the shame in his eyes. "After everything I tried to do, all the things I said to you, you should have left me to die."

"I wasn't going to do that, Cas, you aren't the first one in this room to make a deal with a demon," there is an understanding note to Dean's voice but there is also an undercurrent of anger there, a betrayal that slices through the angel and he forces himself to sit up in spite of what Dean wants. "I just don't understand why you didn't come to us, to _me_."

"For _you_, Dean," Castiel hisses, anger racing through him. "You were safe, _free_, building the life you had always wanted. What right did I have to take that from you? I don't regret making the deal with Crowley. I don't regret trying to pull Sam from Hell. I _do_ regret not telling you from the start, but I knew you wouldn't understand so what was the point in trying?"

"That's it? You lied to us, _betrayed_ us, and we just have to _like_ it?" Dean's anger, Castiel knows, is justified. But so is his. "I thought we _had_ something, Cas, after _everything_ we went through I thought we… Did you even _think_ about what I might have wanted? Did it even occur to you to find out if I was actually _happy_ before you wrote me off as useless?"

"Of course I thought about it! How could I not?" The demand through clenched teeth, all calm pretence abandoned in favour of finally being able to air every thought and emotion that has been bottled up for so long. "Everything I have done, Dean, in all the time I've known you has been _for you_. Every act of free will has been taken in _your_ name and with _your_ needs at the front of my mind. My love for you is greater than the love I carry for my _Father_, greater than _anything_ and I foolishly thought you shared some measure of that!"

"Cas…" Sam tries to step in and the angel shoots that hunter a furious glare. He has things that Sam needs to hear too, but as always Dean comes first.

"But you don't, do you?" He finishes. "You called me '_brother_' like it was something that could stop me from doing what I had to do. I have thousands of brothers, Dean, the majority of them were trying to _kill_ me, claims of brotherhood were poorly thought out. I haven't done all that I have for you out of _fraternal_ love and loyalty. How can you _not_ understand that?"

"Because I don't understand how you can say that and _still_ have gone to Crowley," for the first time Castiel dares to meet Dean's eyes and see the confusion and betrayal there. For the first time he realises just how much damage his actions have caused. "You told us so many lies, Cas, how am I supposed to trust a word that comes out of your mouth?"

"You saved me for a reason, Dean. You trusted me enough to let me touch your soul and use it to heal myself. Everything I have done was done for you because I can't imagine a world where I _wouldn't_ do it. I only wanted to keep you safe, if you don't believe anything else that I've said please believe that."

"I don't know if I can, Cas," the hunter responds and Castiel feels everything in him shatter at the words. The angel is strong enough now, however, that he can leave should he chose to and he cannot stand the heartbreak in Dean's voice. It is Sam's pitying eyes, though, that are the final straw.

"Goodbye, Dean," Castiel mutters, possibly the only time that he has ever said it. Bobby's panic room vanishes from around him, replaced with a sea breeze and a night sky. He stares up at the stars, angelic eyes able to see the distances between them but nonetheless able to appreciate the beauty there.

The stars should bring him peace, should make him feel more closely connected to his Father. Nothing has been able to do that in the last several years. Since discovering the plan of his generals to end the world Castiel has felt more and more alone, more and more cut off from any who could care about him. Now he may have lost the last three people who care about what might happen to him. His actions may have driven Dean and Sam away but when he told the older Winchester that they were not family, Castiel was not lying. He _wants_ them to be his family, more than anything, but he does not want a family of brothers.

Castiel loves Dean, yet as he told the hunter it is not a fraternal love and as before he took in the souls of Purgatory he does not know what to do about it. He sits in the edge of the cliff, staring at his clasped hands, and calls out to his Father through the night. Not for the first time he is desperate for an answer, and he half knows that he will not get one. He does not know how much longer he ca continue to cling to a desperate hope.

_I think I just broke myself._

_Artemis_


	7. Chapter 7

_Slight filler chapter, again, I'll be back to the total drama after this one. I needed to set a few things up and Sam needed to get a few things out into the open. We all know that in some ways he's the more reasonable one. On a side note, I wrote all but the last part of this chapter while watching the news of the riots in London and my heart was breaking. That sort of thing just shouldn't happen anywhere, I feel for the people who have lost their livelihoods because of these people. _

Dean expects Sam to bring up his argument with Castiel as soon as the angel vanishes from the panic room. It is his brother's normal reaction to an emotionally charged situation and it comes as something of a shock when the younger man does not instantly latch onto the debate. Instead he stares at Dean with large, sorrowful, eyes that are just too close to pitying for Dean's peace of mind.

"I don't want to hear it, Sam," he growls, getting to his feet and brushing his brother aside when he tries to help. He walks away and pretends that he does not feel Sam's eyes burning into his back.

He walks away because he does not need Sam or Bobby to tell him what he already knows. Dean knows full well that he is an idiot, knows that he handled this situation badly, but too much has been left to fester between him and Cas. There is still too much unsaid and too many illusions have been shattered. So he does with this what he does best, he puts on a brave face for Bobby and Sam. He pretends that he has brushed it all under the rug as done with but at night when he is staring into his whiskey he knows that he will continue to think about the things that he could have done or said differently. He will continue to wonder if there was another way out of the mess that Cas had gotten them all into.

Sam lets this continue for three days while Dean recovers from Castiel using his soul to as a bandaid. Dean is not stupid enough to think that he would not feel the loss of Castiel keenly. There is far more between them than friendship and he has lost more than he knows how to say, but this total devastation is unexpected. It is like grief and despair is tearing through him, his appetite starts to wane, the alcohol numbs less and he spends much of his time staring at the walls or windows trying to sleep and finding it to be an elusive fantasy.

The only times in the past that he remembers feeling this terrible was the times that his dad and Sam died. The overwhelming nature of this grief is utterly terrifying.

"This has to stop, Dean," Sam tells him finally three day later. Dean is nursing a beer on the front porch staring at the star speckled canvas above and brooding. Although he will never admit to the brooding part.

"What does?" He mutters, taking another swig from his bottle and refusing to look at his brother.

"The sulking. We've all had people betray us, Dean, I know how much it hurts." Sam's words seem to trigger something in the older man, something deep and defensive. Sam broods on things for weeks, months sometimes, until Dean finally has to force him to open up and share the problem. It stings to think that Sam will not let him work this out for himself.

"You think you can compare _Ruby_ to this?" Dean demands, voice cracking slightly with his anger. "Ruby was a goddam _demon_, we should have seen it coming a mile off. She manipulated you and drugged you until you couldn't see the truth. _I_ should have _known_. I should have _seen_ Cas was playing us and I missed it, even when you and Bobby saw it I didn't."

"So he made you feel stupid. He was our _friend_, Dean, of course we trusted him," Sam sits next to him. "He knows everything about us, he knew exactly how to distract us and keep us running in circles. We couldn't have known."

"I should have, Sam," Dean snaps. "All the clues were there and I should have seen them. If I'd just stopped for one damn minute and _asked_ him maybe… it doesn't matter. You're right. We've all been betrayed in the past so why should this be any different?"

"You care about him," Sam replies softly, the words cutting close to that part of himself that the hunter has been trying to drown. "We all do but I think you care a lot more than the rest of us."

"I don't," Dean mumbles. "I can't, not after what he did to you, Sam, I can't forgive that." Dean takes another drink. Castiel, of all the people in Dean's life, knows the messing with Sam in any way is completely off limits as far as Dean is concerned.

"He kept his promise, though," Sam mutters. "He fixed me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to forgive him any time soon, but I've been thinking about why he did it and I sort of get it. I don't agree with him, but he thought he was keeping you safe by not telling us and I can understand that. I'm not telling you to just get over it over-night, Dean, I know better than anyone that you can't just turn off how you feel. What I'm saying is that dwelling on it and drinking until you pass out every night isn't the answer." Sam gets to his feet. "Bobby's got word of a hunt and I think it's time that we got back in the game. Get some sleep, alright?" Dean stays silent and Sam drops a hand down on his shoulder. The elder brother continues to stare out at the dark silhouette of the scrap yard until the younger sighs, squeezes his shoulder once and goes back inside.

When the hunter is alone again he lets his head sink forward and allows a broken sight to be released.

"It's not that easy, Sammy," he breathes.

SPN

_Three Months Later:_

This was probably not the best idea that he has ever had, Dean concludes as the ghost of Jesse Turner slams him into a wall. Across the room he sees a terrified teenage boy beat a hasty retreat and breathes a sigh of relief. At least the kid is safe and that means one less fatality in this house.

As though the ghost is aware that Dean has succeeded in cheating him of his prize the spirit turns it's attention onto the hunter with a vengeance. Dean's ribs are already cracked at the very least from the beating that he has taken and with his next impact with the wall he feels the unmistakable agony and grind of broken pieces rubbing together. It draws a yell of agony out of him and he hopes that Sam find's Turner's body soon because this has gotten too out of control. Jesse's next shot has Dean flying out of the doorway, shoulder hitting the edge. Under the window he manages to catch a final glimpse of the sawn off shotgun that he only had one chance to fire.

His momentum does not lessen overly after his glancing impact with the door frame and he continues backwards, smashing through the railing at the top of the landing and falling. Dimly he realises that this is it, that he has finally been taken out by a damn ghost of all things. Then he knows nothing other than the sudden, brief, agony of his impact with the floor and Sam's frantic cries of his name.

_I needed the time shift, the next chapter is partly written already and please don't throw things at me! That means you, Chelle!_

_Artemis_


	8. Chapter 8

_Like I could leave you all hanging like that! Plus I already had most of it done so I thought I might as well get it all up for you. _

Castiel is sat in a quiet corner of Heaven, the same corner that he has spent the last three weeks in. though his initial instinct has long been to watch over Dean he quickly, and perhaps wisely, decided that seeing the hunter alone and so heartbroken would be too much of a temptation. He knows that Dean wants Castiel out of his life, wants to ostracise the angel who betrayed him, and as much as Castiel _wants_ to be forgiven he knows that he has crossed a line that he should not have done.

He made Sam a target and broke the wall that was the only thing keeping the young man sane after all that Lucifer and Michael will have put his soul through. He does not expect that either man will ever forgive him that no matter what his wishes may be. Being alone like this, however, ignoring the bond that he has with Dean in an effort to minimise the risk that he will do something else to hurt the man he pulled from Hell, has taken a greater toll on him that he is willing to admit to anyone. When he factors in the fact that the other angels have been pressing him to tell them what happened this quiet place has become his only haven.

~_Castiel_?~ Sam's voice cuts through his silent contemplation. There is a frantic note to the voice of the younger Winchester and for a moment the angel considers ignoring the call. Given everything that has passed between them, however, the angel knows that he is one of the last creatures in creation that Sam would call on unless he had a highly compelling reason. For the first time in three weeks Castiel choses to examine his bond with Dean.

What he finds makes his grace still inside him. Always in the past this bond has pulsed with the emotions and strength of Dean's soul and heart. Now it stutters, a laboured and erratic beat that makes concern shoot through him.

~_Cas, please,_~ Sam's voice is louder once the angel turns his attention to it fully, trying to determine the exact location of the brothers as he listens. ~_Dean's dying, please, you have to help him._~

These words are the ones that Castiel has dreaded hearing, the words that tell him that he has failed in his quest to keep Dean safe even after everything else that has happened and been done. It takes only a moment to locate the brothers, a moment to race from Heaven to the derelict house that the two men are in. What he sees makes the angel's grace curl into the tiniest of balls, it makes him think that he never should have given up on watching the hunter.

A cursory glance tells him that Dean has been severely beaten, that his left leg and arm are both broken in multiple places. His laboured breathing speaks of damage to his ribs and the blood on his lips is a sure sign of internal injuries. The angel does not have to use his grace to look inside the man to know that the injuries are fatal, but looking to see what he has to fix makes him marvel that Dean has survived even long enough for Sam to call him.

"Dean," the hunter's name slips out of the angel's mouth as he drops to his knees beside the two men. For a moment he is utterly human, completely lost and helpless as he stares at the man he loves dying on the floor. Then Sam mutters his name and Castiel is the angel again, cold and certain as he looks at Dean and knows that there is a way for him to fix this broken man. He could do it with a touch of his fingers and a fleeting press of grace.

Instead he decides to do it another way, to heal Dean slowly so that he can be close to him for a few moments longer.

"Can you help him?" Sam asks, his eyes shining with concern and barely held back tears.

"I believe so, but it will take time," the angel whispers as he rolls up his sleeves.

"What do you mean 'time'?" Sam demands. "Dean doesn't _have_ time!"

"I'm not the angel I was," Castiel clarifies, _lies_, as he places one hand over Dean's heart and cups the hunter's cheek with the other. "As long as I am attempting to heal him he will live, I promise you that." Sam remains mercifully silent and Castiel turns all of his focus on Dean.

He tugs on his grace, melting and melding it until it is shaped to heal and rebuild the damaged body beneath his hands. Rather than slamming it all into the man at once, as he usually would, he lets it trickle in to fill the hunter with all the warmth of it. With it he sends the deep love that he feels for the man, the absolute sorrow and total loss that this separation between them has caused him. He lets the hunter feel just how _sorry_ he truly is and hopes that Dean can understand what he is trying to tell him because he knows that he will never get another opportunity to do so.

The process is slow, and it is more draining to do it this way than it is to do it quickly, but eventually it is done and Castiel returns focus to himself to find Dean's green eyes staring up at him. He can see everything in them, all of Dean's sorrow and betrayal. Every hurt that he has caused the hunter is reflected there, but there is also something else. There is an emotion that Castiel recognises and has wanted to see for longer than he can admit or pinpoint, and it is an emotion that the angel dare not put a name to for fear of disappointed hopes.

"Cas?" Dean whispers the word as Sam helps him to sit up. Though the hunter is healed it will take a few moments for his brain to process the change. "I told Sam not to call you."

"I'm glad he didn't listen," Castiel replies trying to ignore the hurt that spirals through him at Dean's words. "Dean, I…"

"Save it, Cas," the hunter hisses. The angel pulls away, trying not to let his emotions show on his face and suspecting he has fails by the way the hardness in Dean's eyes wavers. "I know but I can't… You saved my life and that means something but right now I need to think."

"I have been thinking, Dean, I've been thinking for three months." Castiel turns his attention to Sam. "Make sure your brother has plenty of fluids, it will allow the healing to take more effectively." He waits for the younger brother to nod before leaving, returning to his quiet corner of Heaven and his lonely contemplation.

_Artemis_


	9. Chapter 9

_Finally finished the other job! Thank Cas for that. New job is starting in a week which is something of a relief. And with the fact that my mood is going up, guess what? It's taken me a few days to write this, what with seeing friends, wedding receptions and leaving parties I've been writing in my lunch break. I found this one pretty hard to do though._

The drive back to the motel is made in uncomfortable silence. The air around Sam is thick with the worried and triumphant silence that Dean knows incredibly well, it is the kind of quiet that the elder hunter commonly experiences when Sam knows that he has done the right thing even though Dean will not like it. He is angry though whether it is more with Sam, Cas or himself is a matter of the debate that is racing through his mind.

He is angry with Sam for calling Castiel and with Cas for a list of things too long to keep on running through his head. Most of all, however, he is angry with himself for being angry with Castiel and that is the most confusing thing of all.

Cas is, was, his friend, a bright beacon of hope in a world where Heaven _and_ Hell were both against him. The angel has given up everything, sacrificed himself, for Dean. Once the hunter truly believed that it was done for the good of all of humanity, but _now_, with all the lingering remnants of the angel's feelings running through his entire being Dean has finally realised that is not the case. Castiel turned his back on Heaven, on his own _family_, for a love that he could not understand and did not know how to act on. A love of _Dean_ and Castiel's betrayal has hurt him so much because Dean loves the angel at least as fiercely.

That realisation hits him hard, enough so that when they reach the motel Dean leaves Sam in the room and hops back into the Impala. Then he drives, fast and hard. He needs to think. He needs time to wrap his head, soul and _heart_ around everything that Cas let him feel whilst healing him. Dean is no stranger to those emotions, has felt the _all_ at some point over the last few months and particularly so in relation to the angel.

_"You saved me for a reason, Dean. You trusted me enough to let me touch your soul and use it to heal myself.__"_

Dean stops the car when he reaches a clear spot, getting out of the car so that he can lean against the hood as the words run back through his mind. Over the last few months those two sentences have stuck with him more than anything else, that proof that Dean did, indeed, trust Castiel enough to risk his _soul_ to help him. For a long while he has been wondering what could make him want to trust Castiel that much. Now it makes more sense than it has done in a while.

He risked his soul because he cares for Castiel enough that he _wants_ to trust him, even after everything. Dean tilts his head up towards the stars as he thinks and absently turns over the sorrow and agony that Cas let him feel. The sharpness of them, in comparison to his own, is muted, the press of a blunt blade against leathery skin. It means nothing, he realises, that Castiel's emotions are so much less brilliant than his own. The experience of them is secondary and so, he concludes, they would be less cutting than the ones that keep him awake at night.

Over the last three months he has turned everything over in his mind, asked himself over and over if there was something he could have done or said that could have changed how all of this turned out. Even though he knows it is a futile exercise, and one that he has lectured Sam on more than once, he cannot help but do it. He cannot help but wonder if his own stubbornness helped to take them both to a place where each has hurt the other so badly. Whether angry words and buried secrets have taken them both to a place that they may not be able to come back from.

It is a place that he is starting to realise he _wants_ to come back from.

His thoughts move on from the angel's emotions to the method that Cas used to get Dean to feel them, to try and make the hunter understand that he is not the only one who is hurting. They move on to the fact that Cas healed him when Sam asked. If he were being completely cynical he would think that the angel was simply paying off a debt, saving Dean because the hunter saved him, and Dean is well known for his more cynical side. If Cas simply wanted to pay off a debt, however, the hunter knows that he would make sure Dean would not know how he feels, he would make sure that Dean would have no reason to want to contact him again. He would tell the brothers that the outstanding debt had been paid and ask them not to contact him again. Believing that, hoping that he still knows Cas well enough to be certain of it, Dean knows that Castiel wants him to be aware of how much he is hurting, he knows that Cas wants him to at least try to realise that the angel is hurting as much as he is.

It is a startling realisation, to know that Castiel still feels as keenly now as he obviously did when he was falling. It is also a surprise to realise that even though Cas planted his emotions into Deans mind, the hunter does not feel violated or angered by it. He is simply saddened.

He feels like a teenage girl like this; staring at the sky and mooning over the boy that got away. Thinking about the things that he could have done and the things that he feels is something that makes his stomach churn and his gut clench. He hates doing this, having to think and dwell and consider the way that he feels in relation to others. He hates questioning himself like this. Dean likes his world as certain as he can get it, monsters are evil that needs to be killed and people are ignorant and should be saved. Simple.

Emotions are not simple, they are messy and far too complicated. They scare him and he would rather bottle them up than deal with them at all. Girly as it is, however, he is tired of hating Castiel, tired of hurting and tired of the pitying looks that Sam throws him. He does not know if he can really trust Cas again, but knowing how the angel really feels he lets himself hope that the emotions were not an elaborate lie. He lets himself wonder if maybe he can at least _talk_ to the angel. He wonders if the desire to trust Castiel could become real trust and there is only one way that he can find out.

Besides, he has forgiven Sam so much over the years, so many bad choices and betrayals in the interest of the greater good and a part of him wants to do the same for his angel.

"Cas?" He keeps his face tilted upwards, absently cursing the necessity to actually do this. "Get down here, we need to talk."

_How do you like it?_

_Artemis_


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm not sure I'm totally happy with this chapter, but I keep reworking it and these two emotional rejects just keep on being difficult about it. I figured I couldn't keep you waiting any longer so I'm sorry it's a bit sucky._

~_Cas?_~ Castiel is on a bench outside the Winchester's motel when he hears Dean's call. He has been debating attempting to talk to Sam, to try and find out if he will ever stand a chance at becoming a part of the brother's lives again. ~_Get down here, we need to talk._~

For a moment the angel considers not going, for a moment he thinks of all the times in the past that Dean has called on him to solve some minor problem or throw harsh words at him in times of anger and frustration. He wonders if this is going to be one of those times when Dean is so angry that all he can do is fling spiteful comments and dagger-like words in the angel's face. As always, however, Castiel knows that he would never _not_ go to the hunter should Dean need him. Dean's call is all the guide that the angel needs now, even weakened as he is since all of the souls were ripped from him, and it take little thought to be at the isolated place that Dean has chosen, somewhere that no one will hear their words.

It occurs to him that this may be the last time he speaks to Dean, that this might be the occasion where the hunter tells him to stay away for good. It is remarkable how much that thought hurts and he knows that the moment of candid fear must show on his face from the way that Dean's eyes narrow slightly.

"Cas," Dean sounds relieved when he speaks, as though he did not expect Castiel to respond to his call.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Castiel asks, mild and yet with the faintest undertone of a curiosity he is trying so hard to bury.

"Yeah, I…" Dean hesitates, scrubs his hand across his hair and turns his gaze away. Not for the first time Castiel is reminded of why he hates not being able to see Dean's eyes, why he hates not being able to read the play of emotions there even when every other part of the hunter is under tight control. Dean may be good at keeping the emotions from showing there too clearly, but humans are right when they say that the eyes are the window to the soul. It is the part of the hunters where Castiel can see the brilliance of his soul gleam the most, a beautiful sight that the angel does not believe he will ever tire of.

"Dean?" Castiel queries, surprised at the way that the man trails off part way through his sentence.

"Why did you go to Crowley?" Dean says suddenly, desperation shinning in his eyes.

"We've been through this, Dean," the angel responds, tilting his head in confusion as he tries to understand why the hunter is asking a question that he already has the answer to.

"I want the truth, not something you came up with that you thought I wanted to hear," there is a hardness to the man's voice that is not to be seen in his face or eyes. Castiel is glad, rather abruptly, that as an angel he can still see every aspect of Dean's features even in the relative dark of stars and moonlight.

"I told you the truth," the reply is mumbled and the angel knows that more of his feelings are on display here than should be. He is tired, however, tired of hurting and tired of defending actions that he is beginning to question more and more no matter the final result. "You seemed so content, you had everything you wanted, and none of that was with me. You had love, a family, safety and you had never taken the opportunity to find any of that with me. You didn't even try to contact me and I thought… I thought you no longer wanted anything to do with me. Crowley came to _me_, Dean, he made me the offer and it seemed like the best course. I didn't know what to do without you and his offer seemed like the best solution."

"You went to Crowley because you were _jealous_?" Dean's tone is incredulous.

"No, I went with him because I did not believe I had another option. I'd managed to bring Sam back but he was wrong, the other angels didn't understand what I was trying to teach them and Raphael wanted to restart the apocalypse with my help and allegiance. You were finally happy, Dean, and with everything that I feel for you I couldn't bring myself to take that happiness away."

"You didn't even try, Cas," the disappointment in Dean's voice is palpable, a harsh reminder that Castiel wrote the hunter off as useless before he had even asked.

"I don't want to have this argument again, Dean," the angel sighs finally. "What's done is done and I cannot undo it, even should I want to."

"You're right," the hunter agrees, deflating. "I want to trust you, Cas, I really do. I miss having you around, you know?" Castiel tilts his head a little, allowing his confusion at this change in direction to show as Dean scrubs his hand over his face and curses softly. "If I'd asked, would you have stayed?"

"When?" The angel queries, because he has left so many times in the past that he is not entirely certain which occasion Dean is referring to. He could take a guess, however.

"Before I went to Lisa, would you have stayed with me if I'd have asked?" Dean clarifies and all Castiel can do is nod, feeling a borrowed heart that does not need to beat start to race in his chest. It seems to be enough for Dean, though, that the angel is unable to use words to respond. "I should have trusted you, should have tried to anyway, and I should have told you the truth."

"What truth?" There is greater alarm in Castiel's mind now than there has been since he got himself caught up in this mess. There is the fear that Dean has been lying to him even when demanding a truth that the angel has never been really able to give.

"I never thought of you like a brother," Dean finally allows his eyes to lock with Castiel's and finally the angel is able to see behind the walls that the hunter always tries to keep in place. "After everything with the curse and we never really talked about it and I thought you just wanted to ignore the fact that it had ever happened. I just keep thinking about it and wondering." By this point Dean seems to realise that he is rambling slightly. Castiel is well aware that talking about feelings is not the sort of thing that the hunter does the best, but then nor is it the angel's area of expertise either.

"What, exactly, are you trying to tell me?" Castiel whispers.

"I'm trying to say that I want to try this," Dean makes an obscure gesture between them with his left hand while his right rubs nervously across the back of his neck. "Us. With the curse and the true love's first kiss thing. I want to trust you, Cas, I care about you, and I want you around."

The last sentence comes out in a rush of words with Dean looking everywhere but at Castiel. The angel can understand Dean's nervousness, knows that there is a lot between them that is unsaid and that it cannot possibly be as simple as Dean is making out. They will have to consider Sam and Bobby in all of this and there is still the fact that there is a lot to discuss between them.

"Dean," Castiel wants this, he wants the prospect of what the hunter is offering him. He moves forward, seeming to reach for Dean without thinking. The hunter leans into the touch just for a moment and for that moment everything between them is absolutely right. "Can it be this simple?" The angel whispers and as Dean presses their lips together he really believes, for a second, that it can be.

_Artemis_


	11. Chapter 11

_I should be sleeping, I've got an early start with the new job tomorrow and I'll need to be up. As fabulous as the new job is, however, I really wanted to get this out and I figured that since I'd managed to get it almost done I'd finish and get it up._

Dean feels a jolt of something right and wonderful flood through him as his lips meet Castiel's for the first time in too long. This is everything that he has wanted for longer than he has wanted to admit to and he does not want this perfect moment between them to end. This is the one thing that he wants for himself, this moment of love and security continued on for the rest of his life and he pulls Cas tighter against him as the kiss deepens. The angel is clinging to him and the hunter suspects that Castiel is as desperate to remind himself that this is real as Dean is.

He cannot tell Cas that over the months he has refused to talk to the angel he has dreamt of this moment. He is reluctant to admit it to even himself. It is not something that he thinks he could even share with Sam because part of him is completely terrified of the way that his brother will react to this development. Castiel must sense some of the hunter's unease because he ends the kiss with a gentle caress before pulling back to look up at Dean.

Somehow the eldest Winchester seems to always forget that the angel's vessel is shorter than he is when he is thinking about him. Castiel always seems to be ten feet tall in some ways because of his strength and his grace. The presence of the angel can fill a room when Cas wants it to and that impression of the being is always the one that lingers.

"Something is troubling you," Castiel murmurs as they stand pressed together, his hands are resting lightly on Dean's hips and it feels so natural that it is almost terrifying. The angel's expression is almost content; something which is beginning to slip away with ease moment that Dean hesitates in answering.

"Sam," he mutters finally and Castiel nods, seeming to understand where Dean thought he would be confused.

"Your brother has every right to be angry with me, Dean," the angel replies and there is genuine sorrow in his voice. "What I did, even though I thought it right at the time, was terrible. No one, not even my worst enemy, deserves to go through what I did to him. I know that."

"So why did you do it?" The hunter whispers even though he is loath to break this moment of perfect peace between them.

"I know how deeply you care about your brother, Dean, whether you want to admit it or not." Castiel squints up at him. "I believed that your devotion to him would prevent you from leaving him alone should he be incapacitated. I can't begin to describe how much I regret reaching the point when I was so desperate that I would do something so unforgivable. My goal was the right one, Dean, I did the right thing, but I admit that I am ashamed of the actions I had to take to achieve Raphael's defeat."

"You should have been honest with us from the start, Cas," Dean tells him, though a part of him is soaring in relief at the thought that Castiel truly regrets what he did to Sam. "You should have asked us for help as soon as you knew I was back in."

"Pride, Dean," the angel's voice is soft, sad, and he turns his face away. "I suffered from it in those moments as much as any human ever has. As time passed and we all fell deeper into it I found myself less and less able to tell you the truth. I wanted to; so many times I wanted to find you and tell you everything and beg you to help free me from Crowley and Raphael. It was too big, too dangerous, and there was too much risk that you would be hurt or killed. I couldn't allow that, Dean, I didn't want you to be hurt due to my pride and my mistake."

This is a position that Dean has been in. All of his life he has been making sacrifices and hard choices in the names of the people that he cares about. All of his life he has stayed the course that he has chosen out of pride and sheer stubbornness. The one time that he tried to change his mind, the one time that he allowed himself to give up hope, the angel in front of him was to one to pull him back. The angel that he is holding in his arms was the one to remind Dean that he has something to fight for. Just as Castiel's defection from Heaven became something of a beacon of hope for Dean, that if Cas could see that light then so could the other angels, the hunter realises that the need to protect him is what has kept Cas going over the last couple of years. For much of his life Sam has been Dean's reason for living. It appears that Dean has become Castiel's reason.

He could live with that, he concludes with a little surprise, as long as Sam is happy to let the past lie. Dean knows his brother well, he practically raised the giant after all, and he knows that Sam will not necessarily be content to let it go completely.

"He won't forget, Cas," he points out, "neither of us can."

"I know," the angel's response is gentle, "but forgiveness is not the same as forgetting what happened. I'm asking that you forgive me."

Dean does not speak, does not answer, just pulls Castiel into another fierce kiss. He cannot put forgiveness into words, not right now at least, because he is not entirely sure that he can completely forgive Cas for what the angel did to Sam. He wants to forgive Castiel, wishes that he could forget what happened, but he has learnt from all of this. He has learnt that when the angel is hiding something he needs to press that little bit harder, he needs to see that Cas is in a tight spot even when the angel will not admit to it. Castiel is clinging to him, like the angel cannot quite believe that this is real and if Dean is honest neither can he.

The hunter has dreamed of this, ever since that first kiss in Bobby's kitchen, being able to hold his angel like this, to kiss until his lungs are screaming for air and his body calling for Castiel's touch. The angel's whisper of his name against his lips is low, wrecked and wanting and Dean can imagine a hundred other ways that he would like to pull that sound from his angel's mouth. There is something else he needs to know, however, before they go any further. Added to which, he will not take this thing between them any further until he knows that Sam will be alright with it, he could not bear to get Cas back only to lose Sam due to it.

He tells himself that he has to get answers first, drags himself away from the intoxicating kiss that threatens to cut all ability to think from his brain. There has been too many secrets and too many lies between them and he wants the truth, although at this moment it is a close thing between getting the truth and letting the answers wait in favour of the backseat of the Impala. Besides, something about Castiel is different.

"Cas, what did those souls _do_ to you?"

_Artemis_


	12. Chapter 12

_It's a bit more talky than I would have liked, boy can Cas talk when it gets into him, but I wanted to answer the question and explain a few things. Having done that I'll move on to the discussion with Sam next chapter and ask you all if you would like to see the rating go up for the final chapter?_

"Cas, what did those souls _do_ to you?"

As soon as he asks that question the hunter sees the angel tense, feels Castiel try to move away from him and he grips the lapels of Cas' trench coat tightly in a futile effort to make the angel stay. He knows that if the angel decides he wants to leave there is nothing that Dean can do to make him stay, just as he knows that this is obviously something that Castiel does not wish to talk about. It makes him wonder if it is in any way similar to the things that Dean went through in Hell.

"Dean, I…" Cas stops, looks up at him, and there is such agony in those blue eyes that it is obvious even in just the light of the moon and the stars. Castiel does not _want_ to flee this, Dean realises, but he does not know how else to handle it.

"Please, Cas," the hunter relaxes his grip on Castiel's coat, bringing his hand up so that he can run his thumb lightly on the angel's cheek in a comforting gesture that feels too natural. "I need to know, I need to understand." Usually this is Sam's area, Dean knows, the desperate need to know everything that goes through a person's head and find out everything that they have been through. Something, though, about this has left Castiel more unsure than Dean has ever seen him. It has left the angel broken and half defeated and the hunter wants to know why because it cannot just be down to his reaction to Castiel's deal with Crowley.

"I'd lost everything, Dean, my family and friends, my home and the only people I'd ever really cared about because I wanted to. In those first moments they made me feel wanted," Castiel leans into Dean's touch, a movement that Dean suspects is completely unconscious. "I felt like I had everything I'd ever needed, I felt like they loved me and cared about me. It's hard to explain what they made me feel. It was security, love, they were never going to leave me as long as I kept them close to me. I was so powerful, I could do anything, Dean, and it was intoxicating. It wasn't until after I'd sent you all away that it changed. They were calling to me, asking me to open up my grace to them and it was the first time that I thought that there might be something wrong." The angel stops talking and Dean pulls him closer, still terrified that Castiel will leave and never find it in himself to finish his explanation.

"They tore into my grace, attacking the only part of me that cared about something which wasn't them. They knew you were a threat to them, Dean, and they did everything that they could to convince me to eliminate that threat. I think they intended to persuade me to kill you but even the intensity of their jealousy couldn't drown the love I have for you."

"You have no idea how pleased I am about that, Cas," Dean admits softly. Later he will acknowledge how terrifying it is to know how close he came to truly dying. Later he will admit to himself that he knew, even then, that there was more wrong with Castiel than just a power trip. The angel's response is a tiny smile, sad and exhausted.

"I didn't want to do it, Dean, understand that I didn't want to deprive you of that freedom you pride so highly. I was so desperate, I truly believed that you loathed me for my choices, and all the time they whispered to me that the only way for you to love me was to keep you close to me, to make you mine. I'm sorry," Castiel pulls away, his strength coming as a surprise after so long of him being pliable and soft in Dean's arms. "I didn't realise how much damage they had done to me until Crowley ripped them out, and they fought that with the same viciousness that they had used on my grace. It should have killed me."

The angel has his back to the hunter, but Dean knows Castiel well enough to hear the heartache in his voice. He does not move from the car, however, even though every instinct in him is screaming at him to comfort Castiel. Part of him understands that if he interrupts now the angel will never be able to finish. Dean has been through this, with Sam, after Hell, and telling his brother the truth, even in small quantities, was difficult enough. He knows that had Sam comforted him then he would never have been able to tell the whole truth, would never have confessed to so much.

"It didn't," he points out instead and is relieved when Cas turns to look at him.

"No, and I owe that to you. I clung to the feeling of your soul so close to me and I think that's what kept me alive. I know that it was your soul that healed me."

"Not completely," Dean says, suddenly aware of exactly what Cas has not been telling him. "You're not really healed are you?"

"No, the damage the souls did to my grace was," the angel pauses, searching for a moment, "extensive. I am still an angel, I still have power, but it doesn't come to me as easily as it once did. I'm diminished and scarred, Dean, even though you cannot see it, and I'm frightened of what my brothers and sisters will do when they discover the truth of what I am now."

"What are you?"

"An abomination in their eyes and my own," this time Dean does move away from his car, does approach this angel who means so much to him. "I took a power that was not mine to take, facilitated the murder of a creature as old as my Father and tried to usurp his position. It makes me an abomination by all standards."

"Not mine," he assures Castiel as he pulls the angel into a tight embrace. "Not mine."

_Artemis_


	13. Chapter 13

_Two chapters in one day and Chelle you are a total enabler! And I just love this one, read the author's note at the end for my reasons why, but I loved writing it and since Chelle asked I had to get it out._

Sam knows that he did the right thing in calling Castiel to save Dean. He knows that there was no way for his brother to have survived his injuries otherwise, but seeing Cas and having to beg him to save Dean was not an easy thing to do. Just seeing the angel, remembering what the angel did to him, was painful. In the back of his mind he knows that he will never forget, never truly forgive, Castiel for what he did.

The angel saved Dean, however, and that counts for a lot in even Sam's book.

He knows that his brother is having a hard time dealing with this, knows that Dean cares so very deeply for Castiel and that as much as the angel's betrayal has hurt Sam it has hurt Dean so much more. To Sam Castiel was a friend, but to _Dean_ the angel meant so much more than that. Dean's feelings for Castiel run far deeper than Sam thinks his brother is prepared to admit. It is why he lets Dean drop him at the motel and leave, why he settles down in front of the television and lets his racing mind calm down. He cannot deny that the flicker of fear that raced through him when Castiel responded to his call has gone, just like he will not deny that for a moment he hesitated in calling the angel. Not because Dean told Sam not to call on Cas, but because he cannot help but remember what the angel did to him and the sheer terror that it caused him.

He is asleep when Dean gets back to the room, sprawled on his bed without even having taken his boots off, the gentle click of the door closing rousing Sam from a sleep that is neither restful nor restless. It is the simple slumber of the exhausted. He starts awake, breath coming in a short gasp.

"Sam?" Dean looks at him, even in the yellow light of the bedside lamp and the flickering brilliance of the television Sam can see that his brother looks more relaxed. The tense betrayal that has lingered in his eyes since Castiel revealed that he was working with Crowley is gone. There is still tension there, but Sam suspects that it is from another source rather than from Castiel.

"Hey," the word is groggy with sleep and he sees his brother smile at him. "Where've you been?" He sits up and kicks his boots off, watching the way that his brother makes his way to his bed without making eye contact.

"Thinking," Dean replies shortly. "Talking."

"To Cas?" Sam asks even though he already knows the answer. Dean is that odd combination of evasive and settled that tells Sam his brother has reconciled something in his mind that he knows the younger man will not like.

"Yeah, to Cas," there is a note to Dean's voice, a softness that Sam has rarely heard in his brother's tone. It has been there before, and in relation to the angel, but his brother is usually careful to hide that kind of tender emotion.

"You guys kissed and made up, then?" Sam says and sees his brother squirm uncomfortably. He knew that Dean felt deeply for Castiel, it has been obvious in many ways even if Dean does now know it, but to see his brother now, with a wary happy light in his eyes, makes Sam realise that Cas is about to become a much more regular fixture in Dean's life.

"Something like that," Dean mutters and Sam pulls a face.

"So you and Cas?" Sam prompts, wanting to know whether Dean has finally manned up and acknowledged how he feels about the angel he has been brooding over or if he simply attempted to mend a bridge.

"Yeah, me and Cas," even though the response is awkward that note is back in Dean's voice, the soft happiness that Sam has only rarely heard there.

"Alright," the younger man replies, too tired to say much else on the matter and too tired to try and work his way around Dean's natural evasiveness when it comes to emotions. He already knows how Castiel feels about Dean, heard the angel's words in the panic room probably more clearly than his brother did, and it appears that some measure of that is shared by his brother. Dean's kiss was the one to break the curse on Castiel, after all, and Sam supposes that a discovery like that cannot simply be buried again no matter how hard Dean might try to do so. It has really only been a matter of time and if not for Crowley and the souls Sam suspects that Dean would have reached this point much sooner.

With that thought comes another, that no matter what he thinks of Castiel in relation to himself right now he is not the only to have been affected. He might be angry at the angel, he might not be able to forgive or even completely understand Castiel's actions, but he has been in a similar position and when it gets down to it the relationship between Dean and the angel is nothing to do with him. Not really. He does not say this to his brother, just gets changed and cleans his teeth then clambers into bed and shuts out the lights.

Sleep comes remarkably easily to him.

When Sam wakes the following morning Dean is already gone, leaving a hastily scrawled note telling him that his brother has gone to fetch breakfast. Since Castiel fixed the damage done to his mind by unleashing the memories of Hell Sam has slept more soundly that he has in years. It should concern the young hunter, but surprisingly it does not. After years of broken sleep and nightmares Sam finds that he does not want to be without these solid nights of deep rest.

Since Dean is not here, however, he decides to get the answers he wants.

"Cas?" He turns his face up a little, not sure why he does it but feeling better as he places his feet on the floor and closes his eyes. "I know you can hear me, we need to talk."

"I'm here, Sam," Castiel's response to his call is far more prompt than it has ever been before, almost as though he has been waiting for it.

"So Dean told me," Sam starts, watching Castiel's face for clues and cursing the fact that he is so much worse at reading the angel on an emotional level, "about you guys, I mean." Confusion floods Cas' face only to be replaced by a softening of his eyes as he understands what Sam is hinting at.

"You're displeased," the angel replies, the fringes of disappointment colouring the statement. On one level, Sam can admit, he is angry with Dean for this, for forgiving Cas and apparently jumping into the back seat of the Impala straight away, but on another he has to admit that it was good to see the tension out of his brother's eyes. It was good to see that brief flash of happiness there.

"I'm not thrilled," Sam says, opting for honesty. "If I didn't think it would hurt me more I'd punch you for what you did to me. Dean's my brother, I just want him to be happy."

"So do I," Castiel tells him, his voice soft, "and I know I can never truly make amends for my actions towards you."

"No," Sam agrees, "you won't. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to prevent Dean from having something to make up for all the shit he's gone through. He's given up a lot for me, I won't make him give up something else." Castiel stares at him for a long moment, then the tiniest of smiles graces his face as Dean enters the room.

Dean looks between the two of them, wariness replacing contentment in a heartbeat and Sam's name falling from his lips in a way that is meant to head off the explosion the younger man assumes his brother thinks is coming.

"Your brother just gave us his blessing," Castiel says, the phrase seems archaic but Sam supposes that is exactly what he has just done.

"Yeah," Sam rubs at the back of his neck as he watches shock slide off Dean's face to be replaced with joy, "just wait until I'm dressed and out of the room before you start with the PDA, okay?"

Dean nods in response, but to Sam's mind he cannot get out of there quickly enough.

_I know you all half wanted a big angry confrontation, but Sam has a big heart and I just wanted that to shine through. I hope it does._

_Artemis_


	14. Chapter 14

_Ok, so this was harder to write than I had hoped it would be, but the rating did go up. It would have been out earlier tonight but a friend of mine had something of a family emergency/breakdown and I sat trying to cheer her up for a few hours. She's one of the best out there. Also, Chelle, I completely love you for what you did today. You're utterly amazing._

_Finally, I've tried to read this through and correct the bobbles, but it's 2a.m. here and I can hardly keep my eyes open. That's for tomorrow I think._

To his credit, Dean manages to wait until Sam is grabbing a quick shower before he drags Cas into the kind of kiss that speaks of relief and want and a million little things unsaid. It is the kind of kiss that fills the empty spaces in the hunter's heart with light and joy, that reassures him that the angel really does feel the same way about him. They come apart as the bathroom door opens and Sam emerges, clothed, from the tiny room. Under normal circumstances Dean would not hesitate in attempting to make his brother feel as uncomfortable as possible, and he knows that Cas would join in because the angel does not know any better, but right now the last thing he wants to do is upset Sam.

Besides, there will be plenty of time in the future to wind Sam up about all of this when his brother is more open to the idea. Right now Dean wants nothing more than for this to work between Cas and he, he wants nothing more than this thing between them to be forever and he needs Sam on side for that. The younger Winchester grabs a cup of the coffee Dean brought back with him on the way out the door, the smirk he throws the hunter's way is one part amusement and two parts the desperate need to be out of sight of the room for the foreseeable future. Dean can see a lot of teasing in the coming months and even in his mind he can admit that he is alright with that.

The door is hardly closed behind his brother before Castiel is on him. This time the kiss is hard, all teeth and desperate hands, nothing like the soft kisses of the night before or the warmth of the one that they just shared. This is hot and it burns through him, making him nip at Castiel's lips and grip the angel far more tightly than he would risk holding any other person. His angel's hands are also tight, Dean knows that he will have bruises later and he does not care, he just moves his hands so that he can shove at the ever present trench coat. The time for words, it would seem, is long gone and now all that the hunter wants is to show Cas just how important he is.

Castiel's trench coat falls to the floor with a soft thump, the gentle shift of air and forgotten dust, a sound lost on hunter and angel both as they focus themselves on losing all sense of their environment in favour of each other. Everything narrows down to the feel of teeth on lips, battling tongues, strong hands and the feel of bodies that are so very male.

It is a foreign feeling to Dean, one that in the past would have caused him to panic, but he has long since had the time to wrap his mind around the fact that he loves Castiel and he wants Castiel. There is now nothing that will stop him from finally getting to show the angel just how deep those emotions run.

It takes a long moment for him to remember that this is more than likely Castiel's first time. It takes a longer moment to recall that this should be something special for the angel and not just the insistent press of their bodies. First time or not, however, Castiel's hands are firm as he pushes Dean's jacket and shirt from his shoulders. The angel's kiss is almost savage, the desperate press of teeth and tongue as Cas crowds Dean back against the motel room wall, their bodies tight and flush as though Castiel is trying to crawl inside the hunter and never be separated from him again. Even after everything that has happened Dean finds that this is a sentiment that he is more than alright with.

Dean's own hands are shaking as he wrenches Castiel's tie off and fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel pale skin under his hands and make fevered imaginings into a reality that he never dared to hope for. Cas seems to be no less eager, all but ripping the hunter's t-shirt from his body and then moving for Dean's belt with barely a thought. The hunter breaks the kiss at that point, sucking and biting until he leaves a bruise on the angel's throat even though he knows that the mark will not last, and reaching between them to touch Cas through his slacks.

The bewildered and wondering gasp that falls from Castiel's lips is something that Dean does not think he will ever tire of and he knows it will only get better for both of them the faster that they remove their remaining clothes.

"Bed," he mumbles against Castiel's neck as he nibbles another mark into place. The angel mumbles something incomprehensible, shuffling backwards as the hunter directs him to the bed with gentle touches and trembling hands.

Their breathing is coming in desperate gasps now and the sound of Castiel's belt coming undone is startlingly loud but neither one of them wants to stop. They have waited too long for this. Both of them are shaking, now, the angel's hands fluttering nervously at Dean's belt as though he knows what should happen and simply cannot work out how to do it. Castiel may be completely clueless, but sex is Dean's area and even though this is new to him he has a vague idea of how to make it work. He fumbles for a moment with the button and zipper of Castiel's slacks, slipping his hand inside with a groan of triumph when he succeeds in getting them open and stroking the angel's erection with a measure of curiosity. When the backs of Cas' knees make contact with the bed he falls backwards, his face taking on an expression of shock and disgruntlement, distracted by Dean's lips and hand. The hunter smirks and uses the moment as an opportunity to pull off the angel's pants, boxers, shoes and socks.

Dean has done this once before with a particularly adventurous girl one weekend. He remembers that even though she had done it in the past she had insisted he prepare her properly, so he supposes that the same rules apply to men as they do to women. There is lube in the bottom of his duffle bag and he grabs it before he joins Castiel on the bed, taking in a moment to drink in the sight of his angel naked and sprawled on the bed all for him. It is something that Dean never thought he would get to see and that impression stays with him as he pushes his remaining clothes off and to the floor.

The kiss that they share is gentle, soft and exploratory and he takes this moment of distraction for Cas to press one slick finger against the angel's entrance. Castiel tenses beneath him and Dean smooths his tongue over the angel's lips, soothing and licking until Cas relaxes under him. It takes time to prepare the angel, and Dean jumps when Castiel lets out a shattered cry when the hunter brushes against something inside the angel. Dean grins, making another pass at the same spot and when he gets the same response it sparks something deep in him that leaves the man desperate and aching. Fingers are quickly removed and Castiel lets out a whine that goes straight to Dean's erection and he is kissing him as he presses inside the tight heat of his angel.

After that it is a blur of heat and tight and movement. This is everything that Dean has been missing and everything that he has never dared to ask for. Castiel's eyes are wide open, staring up at Dean with so much love and wonder that it is almost impossible to meet that intense blue gaze. Still the hunter cannot look away and it means that he gets to see the wonder replaced with pleasure. He can hear Castiel's harsh gasps and soft moans, can see the angel struggle with pressure that is building inside him. He leans in to kiss Cas, his movements becoming slightly more frantic, and the kiss is a dirty clash of teeth and tongue, sloppy and open and completely lacking in any form of finesse.

"Let it happen," he breathes against the angel's lips and after only a few moments Castiel locks up beneath and around him. The angel's head is thrown back, the soundless form of Dean's name on lips that are parted in a gasp and the hunter follows Castiel over the edge into bliss.

Afterwards they lie together getting their breath and basking in the closeness that they now have to one another. They trade lazy kisses and there is no need for words at this moment. They have shared all that they need to share and neither wants to think about or discuss the difficult future that they know they have ahead of them.

Eventually, it is Sam banging on the door that rouses them and they share a brief parting kiss that is filled with the later promise of more before Castiel leaves and Dean once more becomes the stoic hunter that he likes to attempt to show the world. There is one thing that Dean now knows for certain, however, and that is the simple fact that the world has become significantly less lonely.

_Epilogue to follow in a week or so._

_Artemis_


	15. Chapter 15

_The epilogue. Where the final question I'd left open is answered even though it's pretty much been forgotten about. I'd saved the answer until the end deliberately because this was how I wanted to end it. So I'm sticking to the original plan because no matter what happened in the middle this was the ending I wanted for them._

_Thank you so very much to all the people who've read and fave'd and especially to my reviewers for making this bizarre little trilogy so much fun to write and mess with. And thanks to Punky, Lisa and Chelle who have all encouraged and enabled something horrible to make me get this done._

Castiel would be a fool to assume that things would be easy with Dean. Even with Sam's blessing there are tense moments between the brothers where the angel is concerned. Sam always reiterates the fact that he wants Dean to be happy, however, and so the couple weather the occasional storm and the angel gives the brothers space when they need it. He knows that many people would find such a relationship difficult, but where the Winchesters are concerned he very much doubts that they would work well together any other way.

Bobby is another matter. The older hunter is paranoid at the best of times and he does not forgive with ease. Bobby is very capable of holding a grudge and Castiel is well aware that his actions have caused the older hunter as much pain as it did the Winchester brothers. Bobby is also highly protective of the boys and it stands to reason that even though Dean wants things to work and Sam is willing to allow it to happen their mentor and friend is more cautious about Castiel's intentions. His opinion only really begins to change the day that the angel pulls him out of the clutches of a pack of vampires. It is not a fast thing, rather it is gradual and Castiel is merely grateful for the fact that Bobby does not outright tell Dean to end this relationship now.

The angel finds that he can handle Bobby's disapproval because he knows that the older hunter wants the same for Dean that everyone else around the elder Winchester wants; for Dean to be happy. Castiel likes to think that Dean really is happy now that they have acknowledged their feelings for each other. Besides, even though Bobby does not completely agree with the younger hunter's choice everything else in their lives seems to be going smoothly.

Just as Bobby reconciles himself to the idea that Castiel is now a permanent fixture in the lives of the Winchester men and the angel begins to think that maybe this can go right for him things in Heaven begin to fall apart. With the archangels gone, God missing and no clear chain of command they come looking for Castiel. First singly, then in twos, threes and fours until finally they just call out to him en masse one evening. The angel is with Dean at the time and the hunter panics a little when he sees his lover fall to the floor in apparent agony. A cacophony of heavenly voices will do that to even an angel and his brethren can be overwhelming at times. He would wonder how they found him, Castiel does not spend anything like as much time in Heaven as he did in the past because he likes being with Dean far better, but it is over-shadowed by the fact that they are calling to him for help.

He does not want that responsibility, never wants to try to lead again, because he is not built for it. Castiel is not a general and though he can think for himself he has no interest in doing it for others any longer. He got that out of his system with the souls and the war in Heaven. He wants to live out the rest of his existence beholden to none but Dean, both during the hunter's life on Earth and death in his Heaven.

He ignores the call three times before he finally allows the angel known as the Metatron to enter the motel room he is sharing with Dean. His lover objects, naturally, wary of an angel who is supposed to be the voice of God, but Castiel knows this brother is his best option. Metatron is accustomed to issuing commands, he is certain that he can get the other angel to tell the rest to leave him alone.

When Metatron comes it is in the body of a young woman with mousey hair and pale brown eyes. Dean makes a crude comment in greeting and is hushed by his brother. Oddly, Sam seems captivated by the other angel and Castiel makes a mental note to keep an eye on him for a while.

"Tell them to leave me alone," he instructs. Metatron stares at him, unspeaking but the argument sounds clearly in Castiel's mind. Without their Father and leaders the angels are rudderless. "My place is here, now, with Dean as it shall be for the rest of time. I have no interest in leading our brothers. It is time for us to find our own paths and our own places in the world."

"It has only been their need for leadership which has kept many of us from punishing you for your actions, Castiel," Metatron tells him and the angel shrugs. It is an awkward gesture but one that he has learnt from the brothers and it has a whole world of uses that he relishes.

"Then they will come," he responds philosophically and hears Dean mutter something that sounds suspiciously like '_Over my dead body_'. "We will be ready. Go and find your own way, Metatron, find your own happiness and leave me to mine."

These are the words that he should have said so long ago when the others came to ask him about free will. This is what should have been his response and his goal. He suspects that the others will never understand.

"I will give them the message, brother," the other angel says gravely, "and I am glad that you have finally solved the last puzzle. Father wishes you well and happy."

Metatron is gone with those words and a peace fills Castiel that he is unable to describe. His Father wants him to be happy with Dean.

"What puzzle?" Dean asks, wrapping his arms around his lover and pressing a kiss to his neck.

"When Veles cursed me someone had to have helped him to do it. He was a pagan god and it wasn't possible that he had the power to bind my grace the way that he did," there is a wonder and distance in Castiel's voice. "My Father was trying to give me a message, I realise that now, without revealing Himself to the world."

"What message?" Dean demands, green eyes hard.

"I believe he wanted me to pursue my own happiness and encourage the others to do the same. I confess that I may have been a little bit slow on understanding His meaning." Dean chuckles at that, his voice low and comforting.

"Come to bed," he whispers and there is a promise to the hunter's voice.

Now, as always in the future, Castiel finds that he is utterly powerless to resist and he follows Dean willingly and blindly into a night of pleasure and love.

_Any ideas for future work is welcome, although I guess now would be a good time to get back to Gabriel, Hecate and Aislin. I've been neglecting them._

_Artemis_


End file.
